Last night, after a bad dream, Sophie appeared at the side of my bed. She no longer has to cry for attention — she can get herself out of bed and walk into our bedroom, calmly, simply, while I am still asleep.
“Man coloring me,” she told me, as I pulled her into my bed and she settled down, curling into the crook of my neck, instantaneously soothed.
A minute later she looked up and announced, triumphantly, “The man isn’t coloring me any more.” Her bad dream was over.
It’s a bit crowded, in our double bed, with the 3 of us and the cat. And it is so cozy.